


Bibliophilia

by Almost_Convinced_I_Am_Real



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Fluff, Human Daft Punk, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 15:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10721682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almost_Convinced_I_Am_Real/pseuds/Almost_Convinced_I_Am_Real
Summary: It didn’t take long for Thomas to notice that the young man with the dark, flowing hair only visited the library on Wednesdays. It took even less time for Wednesday to become his favorite day.Library AU: Thomas is a library assistant; Guy-Man is a college-aged patron who comes by at least once a week. Awkward flirting ensues.





	Bibliophilia

It didn’t take long for Thomas to notice that the young man with the dark, flowing hair only visited the library on Wednesdays. It took even less time for Wednesday to become his favorite day. Previously, most working days had been rather boring. While they had a nice number of visitors each day and he frequently had things to do, it was always the same visitors and the same tasks. He was grateful for having a stable, drama-free job, of course, but every so often he couldn’t help but to wish for a minor catastrophe to spice things up. Obviously, that never happened, and he was stuck in the same old, dreary, monotonous routine.

Until a few weeks ago.

It had been pure luck that Thomas was behind the counter that particular day. A patron that he didn’t recognize wished to borrow a slew of books about Ancient European architecture. The man in question was quite short, dressed in dark ripped jeans and a black T-shirt, with numerous kinds of bracelets wrapped around his pale wrists. The aforementioned hair was thick, constantly falling into his eyes, which had a light blue shade. He looked young, very young actually, but judging by his reading material he must’ve been at least college-aged. Thomas’ interest had been immediate.

They didn’t speak much that first time, since the man hadn’t seemed to be in the mood for chit-chat. Thomas himself had been too busy concentrating on scanning and filing the books correctly and not letting the cute new patron distract him from his job. Because he was cute. Oh lord, was he cute. So cute, in fact, that Thomas forgot to check the library card for the guy’s name. He felt like banging his head into a wall after realizing that.

Luckily, he’d been back the next Wednesday to borrow more books, as well as return some of the old ones. Thomas had (luckily!) once again been stationed by the counter. This time he took great care in reading the name off the card: _Guillaume Emmanuel de Homem-Christo._ It struck Thomas as odd, how a name could both be very unfitting yet absolutely perfect for a person. He never would have guessed it, but now he couldn’t imagine any other name for him. They didn’t talk much that time either, other than the customary “Hello”, “Have a nice day”, and “Thank you”. Guillaume had a pretty nice voice.

The third Wednesday didn’t start out as lucky. A class of first graders was having a field trip to the library, where they would among other things receive their own library cards. Thomas was tasked with assisting the teachers and keeping an eye on the kids. That wasn’t too bad, especially since nearly all the tykes were adorable beyond reason. No, the problem didn’t arise until Thomas saw Guillaume on the way to the art section, and realized he wouldn’t be able to check out his books that day. It was ironically enough a good thing the children needed so much of his attention, because if left to his own devices he probably would’ve drowned in his own disappointment. But then it turned out he shouldn’t have worried. The first graders assembled by the counter to borrow their books all at once, clogging it up and hindering anyone else who might’ve been ready to check out at the same time, which included Guillaume. Stifling his joy, Thomas crept up to the small line, stopping right next to Guillaume of course, and cleared his throat.

“I can take care of you over here,” he said, gesturing towards the second computer, which they only used when the library was really crowded.

Thomas hurried to get done with the two patrons who reached the counter before Guillaume did. Guillaume, as usual, replied to Thomas’ cheerful greeting with a curt nod, then did a small jerk of his head to get the hair out of his eyes. Thomas had to direct his gaze towards the books to prevent himself from blushing. He really wanted to say something this time, to start a conversation. Guillaume handed over his library card, and out slipped the first thing that came to mind.

“It’s quite a mouthful.” Thomas carefully peered up at Guillaume. “Your name,” he added, when only given an eyebrow raised in confusion. “Guillaume Emmanuel…”

Guillaume’s stoic expression broke for a moment, to contort itself into a slightly disgusted grimace. Thomas had never wished for a swifter death before. However, the reaction appeared to have been involuntary, and Guillaume’s face quickly ironed itself into his usual blankness.

“I prefer Guy-Manuel, or Guy-Man,” he said.

“Oh!” Thomas said, sounding kind of suffocated. “I, uh, my name’s Thomas.”

Guillaume gave another curt nod. Thomas refrained from saying anything else. He blew it. Of all the things he could’ve done to _not_ make things awkward, he did none of them. Death really couldn’t come fast enough. He. Fucking. Blew it.

As he stood there, wallowing in his own ineptitude, Guillau- Guy-Manuel, gathered up his books and, right before leaving, did the, to Thomas, completely unexpected.

“Thank you, Thomas,” he said, offering a tiny, fleeting smile that transformed Thomas’ bones into jelly.

After that, they managed a bit of small-talk every Wednesday. During that time, Thomas got to know quite a bit about Guy-Man. He studied art history and was 21 years old, which was a year older than Thomas, astonishingly enough. His parents wanted him to either become an architect or to get a doctorate in art so that he could teach; he would much rather paint for a living. He enjoyed old-school rock music, but also disco and funk, and horror movies. And lastly, he didn’t have a partner, but did have a dog. Thomas in turn revealed he was currently taking some time off from school, but was planning to get back to studying film the next semester. He was sure that, at one point or another, he became embarrassingly passionate when talking about his hopes and dreams. Not that you could tell by looking at Guy-Man, who always attentively listened to even the nerdiest of Thomas’ blathering. He was just that kind of person, preferring to listen than talk. When he did talk, it was softly, quietly. He could be witty when he wanted to, but never actually cruel. And he wasn’t nearly as opposed to the occasional burst of silliness as his mostly serious expression would have you believe.

By week nine, Thomas had fallen. Hard. He often wondered if Guy-Man – who nowadays came into the library almost every day – knew, since he could be ridiculously difficult to read. Someone who definitely _did_ know was his fellow library assistant Camille. Her suspicions began when seeing how he rushed to the counter whenever Guy-Man approached it, or how he made sure to speak to Guy-Man every time the other man studied in the library. At first, he’d handled it with a dismissive shrug and a half-lie about them being good friends. Unfortunately, she couldn’t be fooled for long, and soon reacted to his apparent infatuation with a knowing grin and a wink.

After week eleven, their interactions lessened somewhat. Guy-Man had an upcoming exam that needed all of his attention, which meant no time for small-talk. He did still take a moment to wave and smile in a way that made Thomas’ heart flutter into his throat whenever he entered and exited the library though, which was something. Thomas obviously still wished they could’ve talked at least a little, especially as he saw Guy-Man get more and more stressed each passing day. But striking up conversation now would only make things worse. He could be patient.

Then, at the start of week thirteen, Camille came up to Thomas a few minutes before closing, hand pressed to her mouth to suppress the giggling.

“Your boyfriend is asleep in section D,” she said, a teasing shimmer in her eyes. “We’re closing now, so go wake him,” she continued as Thomas, beet red and spluttering, failed to produce a retort.

Waiting until the color had mostly drained from his face, Thomas set out to find Guy-Man, who indeed was soundly sleeping on a table in section D. His head was propped up by three thick books, only one of which was open. A soft snoring could be heard between the deep, even breaths. He looked so cute, Thomas thought he was going to faint as he put a hand on Guy-Man’s shoulder to gently stir him. Guy-Man awoke with a start.

“Uh, good evening?” Thomas said, trying to hold in what would’ve probably been an enamored chuckle had it ever seen the light of day.

Guy-Man straightened up with a groan, rubbing his eyes. “Did I-”

“Fall asleep? Yes.”

“What time is it?”

“Um, 17:57. We’re closing in three minutes.”

Guy-Man heaved a sigh before stretching like a cat. Thomas, feeling some heat return to his face, gestured to the pile of books.

“Do you want to check these out before you go?” he asked, his voice edged with something bordering on shrill. Guy-Man nodded.

“Yeah. Please.”

The transaction was done in silence, the only sound heard being the clicking of the keyboard and the occasional cracking of Guy-Man’s neck. It must’ve been an uncomfortable position he ended up in.

“You’ve had trouble sleeping?” Thomas finally succeeded in spitting out.

Guy-Man shrugged. “Pulled a few all-nighters.”

Thomas nodded slowly, absentmindedly licking his lips. “You’ve been working hard. You deserve to have someone treat you to something nice after all of this…”

There was another moment of quietness, before Guy-Man emitted a tiny, amused snort.

“Are you making an offer?” he asked, gazing up at Thomas from behind his bangs.

Thomas’ eyes widened as he flushed a furious crimson. He stuttered out a rapid-paced, incoherent mess of an explanation to what he meant, only to be interrupted by Guy-Man chuckling.

“I’m just joking,” he said, quickly sliding the books off the counter and into his bag.

“O-oh.”

Thomas stared down at his feet while scratching his head. The blush refused to let up. Guy-Man said goodbye, then walked towards the exit with hasty steps and a lowered head. He’d just grabbed the door handle when Thomas, after a deep breath, called out.

“W-we still could, though!”

Guy-Man froze in place. His head snapped to Thomas, a surprised look on his face.

“W-what?”

“We could go out!” Thomas said. Or maybe shouted. “Do something somewhere… In a place that isn’t, uh… here.”

At first, Guy-Man merely stared at him, blinking uncomprehendingly. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Opened it again. Closed it. A light pink hue gradually spread across his cheeks.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, we-” He paused to cough. “Yeah, we could do that.”

“I-I don’t work on, on Saturday!” Thomas said. Or still shouted. He was so happy he wasn’t really sure what he was doing.

“Exam’s over by then. We can celebrate it. It being over, I mean.”

“Sounds great!”

“Should I give you my number, maybe?” Guy-Man asked, taking a step away from the door.

“Oh, we already have it. In the database.” Thomas patted the computer for emphasis.

“Right! Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” Guy-Man said, pulling the door open.

“Yeah, see you!” Thomas exclaimed with a wave. Beaming, Guy-Man returned it before the door closed with a thump.

Thomas, after what felt like an eternity of standing dazed, released the breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. His face was hot. His knees were weak. Trapped in a high of complete and utter happiness, he slumped against the counter right as Camille burst out of the adjacent office with a high-pitched, congratulatory squeal.


End file.
